


Say It With Flowers

by ThunderboltIron



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderboltIron/pseuds/ThunderboltIron
Summary: Short story from my writing portfolio. Theme is "detective".





	Say It With Flowers

The officer in charge sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. In front of him paced the eccentric detective, mumbling incoherently to himself.

 

"For God's sakes, Pinkerton, you better have a good explanation that I can tell the higher-ups as to why we brought Mrs. Bardi in,” grumbled the officer. “They’re going to wonder why we brought in the woman who asked for an investigation in the first place.”

 

Detective Pinkerton didn’t seem to hear the complaints from the man seated at the desk, much to the latter’s chagrin. Just as the officer was about to yell at him a second time, Pinkerton spoke up.

 

“Remind me again Ganimard, how did we come to investigating this case in the first place?”

 

For a second, Officer Ganimard was taken aback at his companion’s seeming disregard for his concerns, but eventually he sank into his seat in resignation, reminding himself that this has always been how the detective is like.

 

“Mrs. Bardi called our offices insisting on an investigation into the death of her husband. Apparently, he was driven into paranoia by a ‘stalker,’ which is ostensibly the reason why he ran into a fast-moving freeway only to be run over by a truck.”

 

“And why did you not find the need to investigate this matter beforehand?”

 

“Really, Pinkerton, do you seriously believe that Mr. Bardi was _murdered?”_

 

“It would appear to me that is the case, yes.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Officer Ganimard reclined in his chair, his hands steepled.

 

“Then I’d like to hear your reasoning, detective.”

 

Detective Pinkerton stopped pacing the floor, turning to face Officer Ganimard with a confident stance.

 

“Mr. Bardi was receiving gifts of admiration from an unknown sender which he interpreted as an act of intimidation by the giver, am I correct?”

 

“That seems to be the case according to our investigation, yes.”

 

“Have you considered why?”

 

“We assumed that it might have been because he was alarmed at how ever-present they seemed to be for him. He would receive flowers and chocolates at work, at home, and even in his favorite bar.”

 

“Not quite, Ganimard. Mr. Bardi never had a history of any mental illness or disorder that would produce that kind of anxiety, and it is quite contrary to human experience that a man would interpret the gifts of an admirer to be of malicious intent.”

 

Pinkerton produced a folder from his person and placed it on the desk.

 

“However, my investigation into Mr. Bardi’s medical history did yield some results. As it turns out, the victim seemed to have a number of particularly strong allergies, among which were daffodils and peanuts – both of which were present in the bouquets and chocolates that he would receive.”

 

Ganimard perused the file, eyes widening slightly.

 

“My God, Pinkerton, do you mean to say that these gifts really _were_ meant to antagonize the man?”

 

“That is precisely what I am getting at.”

 

“Then why suspect Mrs. Bardi? I can’t think of a reason why she’d murder her husband. It wouldn’t be for money, since it was Mr. Bardi who married above his station, and he wasn’t a spendthrift.”

 

“I’m glad you asked. I actually suspected her sister as she had more of a motive at first.”

 

“Yes, yes, that makes sense. The singer Beatrice famously had a relationship with Mr. Bardi, but he broke it off for her sister instead.”

 

“Well, I was able to question Ms. Beatrice regarding the case. As it turns out, she and Mrs. Bardi have not spoken in years, until she learned of Mr. Bardi’s death upon coming home from a concert tour overseas.”

 

The detective took out a cigarette and lit it.

 

“It was Ms. Beatrice that implored Mrs. Bardi to approach the police.”

 

Officer Ganimard sat up straighter in his overly plush office chair, hands gripping the armrests. Pinkerton smiled and waved his cigarette around.

 

“Ms. Beatrice still loved Mr. Bardi – it was evident in her demeanor. However, she was resentful that her sister, despite knowing this, still accepted Mr. Bardi’s suit.”

 

Pinkerton took a drag from his cigarette, closing his eyes in thought.

 

“But not resentful enough to let Mr. Bardi’s death go unquestioned. In addition, her willingness for the police to investigate what should be an open-and-shut case of accidental death makes me believe that she is not responsible.”

 

Officer Ganimard gave his full attention to the detective now. He leaned forward on his desk, trying to follow Pinkerton’s line of thinking.

 

“And Mrs. Bardi agreed to this.”

 

Pinkerton smiled.

 

“Precisely, my good officer. When I had questioned Mrs. Bardi about her sister’s involvement, she was very emphatic about her belief in her sister’s innocence. Mrs. Bardi struck me as the type of person who absolutely adored her little sister and who was heartbroken when she cut contact, which made me even more suspicious as to _why_ she accepted Mr. Bardi’s suit in the first place.”

 

“Pinkerton, you don’t mean...”

 

“That is precisely what I mean. I believe that Mrs. Josephine Bardi, née Portinari, married Mr. Frank Bardi in order to avenge her sister’s broken heart.”


End file.
